


On The Twelfth Day Of Christmas

by lookingfortherainbow



Series: Advent Calendar Fics of 2020 [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Christmas Shopping, First Kiss, First Meetings, Harry and Louis are the ages they are currently, M/M, Meet-Cute, Oblivious Harry Styles, Pining Louis Tomlinson, Rich Louis Tomlinson, Schmoop, Secret Admirer, Secret Crush, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27844267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookingfortherainbow/pseuds/lookingfortherainbow
Summary: A lonely Harry gets a present every day from a secret admirer. Little does he know, the greatest gift comes in human form.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: Advent Calendar Fics of 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037256
Comments: 15
Kudos: 147





	On The Twelfth Day Of Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in about three hours, ahh! Please ignore any mistakes, typos, etc.  
> Hope you enjoy!<3
> 
> Russian translation is [here!](https://ficbook.net/readfic/10142704/26098628)

“No, Gemma, I really don’t want you spending money on that for me,” Harry says into his phone, smiling awkwardly at the handsome man that’s standing in the corner of the elevator. 

He’s on his way to work, rushing to answer another desperate call from his manager who’s swamped with the amount of Christmas shoppers their little shop has gotten. At the beginning of the year, when they first opened, Harry wasn’t sure the business would make it. Now, he’s lucky to even have two days off in a week. 

The button for the first floor of his flat is already lit up, so Harry stands a good distance away from the other man, and listens frustratedly as Gemma  _ prods _ and  _ prods _ for what he really wants this Christmas. 

“Gem, it’s a three thousand dollar Gucci sweater! I don’t think that’s something any of us can afford to spend on a piece of cloth.”

“Three thousand dollars?” Gemma shouts into his ear. “H, what the hell could possibly be on a shirt that costs that much?” 

“Um, it says Star Boy on it,” Harry says, sheepishly into the phone, eyeing the other man in the corner. 

It’s not that he’s ashamed of his fashion sense, it’s just kind of awkward to have a total stranger--wait, no, that’s the guy that lives the next flat over,  _ great _ even worse--know what’s on your wish list. 

“Well, I’ll see what I can do,” Gemma says, sighing. 

“Don’t stress about it, really,” Harry reassures her. “Look, I’ve gotta hurry, here. My manager called me in again today.”

Gemma gives him her condolences and they say their goodbyes. Once the call ends, Harry starts tapping his foot, willing the slow machine to move faster. 

“Nothing says holiday cheer like having to rush to an unscheduled shift,” his neighbor says. 

Harry jumps a little at the voice, and turns his body more to take a look at the owner of it. Harry has only passed him a few times in the halls, therefore never giving himself time to really see all of his beauty without the blur of movement distracting him. 

He’s breathtaking--blue eyes intimidating and deep, combed hair a soft swoop that frames his face, thin lips a petal pink, nose an adorable contrast to the rest of his regal face.

Quickly, Harry regains his composure, nodding. “Yeah, not to mention the train rides that slow everything down.”

The man cocks his head. “D’you not like train rides?”

“Oh, I adore them when I’m not in a rush. But my manager is kind of stressed right now, and I take a long time to get ready. So, they’re kind of annoying in these times.”

“I think fashionably late employees are important. Customers appreciate workers that look classy and put together.”

The compliment is said so matter-of-fact Harry wouldn’t think anything of it, if the man hadn’t given him an appreciative once-over. 

“Like your coat,” he continues, “looks super high class. Is it from where you work?”

Harry looks down at the women’s coat he’s wearing--a dark blue that fits his frame in a flattering, feminine way that his men’s coats don’t. He looks over at the outfit the man is wearing, taking in the white turtle neck and charcoal suit coat, the charcoal dress pants. It looks too expensive for Harry to touch. 

“Oh, um. Yeah, I get a discount on all the clothes there.”

“Where is it that you work, exactly? I’m something of a fashion snob, and I like knowing all the best places to shop.”

Harry is suddenly nervous, shifting inside of his heeled boots. He never expected to get so suddenly acquainted with his neighbor. Then again, it’d be nice to know someone in his building, seeing as he moved here from Cheshire three months ago and still hasn’t made any friends in London.

“Indy Fashion’s the name. It’s nothing super impressive--”

“Ah, now, none of that. I think I’ll be the judge of that meself,” Louis smiled, giving him a wink. 

And before Harry could do anything more than blush, the man was waving to him and exiting the elevator. 

*

It’s become a routine now, Harry realizes as he picks up the package sitting in front of his door. Someone has been sending him gifts that fit perfectly with the ‘12 Days Of Christmas’ song. The puzzling thing is that it’s not sent from an address. It’s dropped off by someone. For a few nights, Harry waited around by his door for hours, bored enough to settle in a chair in front of it and sip his hot cocoa as he read, anxiously waiting for his secret santa to come around. 

Except he never did, but he  _ still _ woke up with a gift waiting for him outside. Today’s date is the fifth, and instead of a painting of what the song’s lyrics say the receiver of the gifts gets (along with something like sweets or a gift card or snowglobes--more practical gifts), Harry unwraps a small box. Inside contains an assortment of five rings--two of them with his own initials in chunky, gold lettering that fits his own style so perfectly he feels stunned. He realizes he’s grinning down at them in his pyjamas, in his doorway that sits right across from his handsome neighbors’. 

Quickly shutting the door, he proceeds to pull all five of the rings on, noticing their quality and heft. There’s no way he could afford these, and he feels bad about not being able to truly thank his secret admirer. 

*

The next day he receives another painting and a beautiful, sparkling star ornament. It’s ornate, fragile, and made so perfectly Harry spends his night shift at the shop with a spring in his step.

“I quite like this little shop of yours.”

Harry can’t really believe it when his neighbor steps up to the counter with an armful of clothes. 

“Um, yeah, thanks,” Harry smiles, cheeks burning. “D’you find everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Though, I wonder if I can find those same initial rings around here?” He’s pointing to the rings on Harry’s fingers.

His cheeks burn even more when his manager comes up to say, “Those aren’t sold here. Harry, here, just so happens to have a secret admirer that accessorizes him better than my whole shop can.”

Harry’s biting his lip, eyes focused on the barcodes he’s scanning, because the man’s eyes are too sharp for moments where he feels giddy like a schoolgirl with a crush. 

“Is that so? Well, they picked the right person to admire.” 

Harry looks up, only to be blinded by the force of his shining smile, his eyes softened by the expression. “I’m Louis, by the way. Sorry for not introducing meself properly before. Terrible manners.”

His manager is nudging him in his back, and Harry feels his insides turn to mush as Louis’ eyes track his movement, that smile not dropping. He shoos her away finally in hushed tones, and turns to grin at Louis before beginning to bag his things. 

“Are all of these for yourself?”

“No, no. I’ve got four sisters. This place is going to be their new favorite shop after they get these gifts. Two of them want to be models, and they’re always looking for different pieces they can wear that others haven't before.”

If Louis stands there with such a soft look on his face any longer, Harry’s going to have to tell him to leave. The man’s affection for his family is so obvious, it makes Harry’s heart thrum. 

“They’re lucky to have a big brother like you. I’ll see if I can work out a discount for them. Just tell them to mention you when they come in,” Harry says, knowing he’ll deal with the consequences of that promise without his boss’s permission later. 

Louis’ face lights up, looking at him with the cutest expression of surprise and glee. “Mate, thats--that’s really sweet, but they can pay full-price. I want your business to soar. Maybe then you can get a raise and not get called in on nights off.”

Brushing a stray curl aside, Harry nods, “It’d be nice to walk about and see the lights round the city.”

He looks at the square outside the large windows of the shop, all the trees lit up with yellow lights, sashes and simple ornaments hanging on the boughs. The snow is falling lightly outside, and all Harry wants to do is go and stand out in it.

“I hope you get your wish, lad,” Louis says, the rasp in his voice making Harry yearn for a cuddle. 

*

On the twelfth day, Harry opens his door to find nothing. 

He tries not to mind, and the phone call from his boss telling him he can take the day off is helpful in lifting his spirits. But, it’s still disappointing. He tells Gemma as much when he talks to her on the phone after he’s finished baking gingerbread cookies. She tells him that maybe the present is so big it’s taking longer to get to him. 

She’s not exactly wrong. The present is a lot bigger than usual, because when Harry opens the door to a knock he finds it’s in human form. More specifically, Louis form. 

“On the twelfth day Christmas,” Louis sings, a nervous smile on his lips and tremble in his voice. “My cowardly neighbor gave to me. . .”

He thrusts the large box out, letting Harry take it slowly from him. He forces himself to blink, to tear his gaze from Louis, who’s in a soft dark green sweater, an adorable santa hat on his head. 

The box is wrapped terribly this time, nothing like the professional way the other ones were. It only serves in making Harry that much more appreciative of it, because he guesses this one was personally wrapped by Louis himself. 

“Erm, I’m shit at wrapping, sorry,” Louis says, an embarrassed chuckle falling from his lips.

Harry’s still speechless, looking at Louis, then the box in intervals. When he gets it unwrapped, he lets out a gasp. 

It’s the Star Boy Gucci shirt he’d told Gemma he’d wanted. 

In the next moment, Harry’s gripping it in one hand, and pulling Louis in by his sweater with the other. He kisses him with all the gratitude and happiness that’s been building up with each gift over the last twelve days. Louis lets out a surprised little noise, but opens his mouth to soothe Harry’s bottom lip with his tongue, eliciting a quiet little moan from Harry. He shuffles Harry back, pressing his chest up against Harry’s so the younger man is sandwiched between the wall of his entry way and the planes and curves of Louis’ body. 

Harry gropes his shoulders, noticing Louis tastes like peppermint and chocolate as he dips his tongue into the other man’s mouth. His fingers slide through his hair, knocking the Santa hat off, as their mouths make a wet sound, separating in a searing suck. 

“It was you all along?” Harry asks, breathless from both the kiss and the way Louis’ hands are gripping his hips. 

Louis smiles against his mouth, giving him a soft kiss. “Mhm. Your beauty is a bit intimidating, darling, and I’m a bit shit at making conversation with gorgeous people. Fortunately, I’m good at giving gifts.”

“Were you also responsible for my day off today?” Harry asks, gazing into that deep blue that’s taking in the sight of his red lips. 

Louis shrugs. “That was Santa’s doing actually. I’m but a mere go-between. See, he told me there’s this star in the form of a man on earth that wants to see the light on the trees, and he can’t very well do that if he’s working.”

“You want to take me to see the lights?” Harry gasps. 

Louis smiling full-force now, eyes wrinkled at the corners. He squeezes the soft skin of Harry’s hips. “Only if you wear that sweater. Star boy.”

And Harry does. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to reblog the little fic post I made for this series, [click here](https://andtheywerebandmates.tumblr.com/post/636606796721717248/its-december-and-i-wanted-to-do-something)
> 
> Thank you to all who've read, commented, and left kudos! <333


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